


The Dress - And Iain de Caestecker Fanfiction

by Harmonious_wordsmith



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Iain De Caestecker - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-03-23 04:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 20,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3754921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harmonious_wordsmith/pseuds/Harmonious_wordsmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're an actress playing a reoccurring character on Marvel's Agents of SHIELD, and one of your co-stars seems to have taken a liking to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dress

**Author's Note:**

> Still working on the Purging of Asgard, just wanted to test the waters with my first ever posted imagine. Many more parts to come, though, just like with my other fics, they are currently fairly short since I originally posted them to Instagram, so I'm working on extending by adding detail as well as revising as I go.  
> Let me know what you think!

"Iain!"  
"Wha-what? What?" He spluttered, immediately flushing at being caught gawking.  
"I take it you like the dress then?" You joked with a friendly wink, his blush deepens earning snorts and chuckles from the rest of the group, he promptly buried is face in his script. You had been in the wardrobe trailer for the last two hours with half of the cast trying on some specific pieces for the new Agents of SHIELD episode.  
With an undercover storyline coming up, your character was going to a charity dinner, which required a killer evening gown. Judging by Iain's reaction, you're thinking the wardrobe team nailed it. You take a few extra moments, twisting and turning, watching the Sapphire silk ripple and wave, but you know it’s time to change back into your boring street clothes. You rejoin the group after changing and hear Anna, the head of the department, call in the next victim, "Okay, Clark, you're up." You take a seat between Chloe and Iain, the latter tossing a meaningful look in your direction.  
"What? Is it my fault you were drooling all over your script?" You tease,  
"Yeah, maybe more than just a little bit." He chuckled. His eyes wandered again, obviously still envisioning the plunging neckline of your gown.  
"Hey, Romeo, my eyes are up here." You yelp, tipping his chin up for him. "Good thing we aren't in that scene together, we may never get through it."  
"Oi, now, I resent that! I'm a very professional... Professional. I could concentrate if I had to." He was stuttering, trying, with obvious effort, not to picture you in that dress again.  
"So you didn't like the dress then?" Chloe interjected,  
"Nope. I mean I never said that-- I mean-- it's a very flattering--" you just can't help it anymore and start giggling. "Well now that's just not nice." He sighs.  
"Maybe not, but it's funny."  
Your banter is put on hold when you hear Elizabeth hoot a mock cat-call. Clark struts out of the dressing room, looking extra dapper in a tux, and all the ladies in the room, and even Brett and Iain, whistle and cheer for him. He strikes a few poses, modeling his new threads like a pro and struts back into the dressing room.  
You an Chloe continue your giggling, spouting inside jokes and letting the teasing drop. Clark re-emerges in his usual jeans and sneakers,  
"Okay, folks. Ready to get going? I know I'm starving" he says, herding the group to the door. Iain holds the door for everyone, you walk out last, with him close behind. You suddenly feel a warm hand in the small of your back and almost stop where you are. You turn and look at Iain.  
"What?" He asks innocently, his hand unmoving as a tell-tale flush creeps over his cheeks. You shrug at him, but find you're smirking to yourself as you turn back to the others, making sure not to get ahead of him. You find yourself really looking forward to dinner.


	2. Dinner

Dinner was as amusing as ever, with inside jokes being thrown around the table, playful trash talk earning groans and chuckles, And storytelling of stunt work complete with scar and injury comparisons.  
"Honestly, the only reason I would want to do any of my own stunts would be for the killer body that comes with the territory." Elizabeth admits with a gesture to Nick and B.J.   
"Speaking of killer bodies," B.J. Pipes up, "that dress they gave you for the new episode, I'm told you're kind of a knock out in it, Y/N."   
"Oh, really, now? And who told you that?" You look around the table for the guilty party, before Chloe reluctantly raises her hand,   
"Okay, okay. I did." She said as she started scrolling through her phone. "But you're acting like there is something to be embarrassed about." She passes her phone to B.J. who's eyes immediately widen and he whistles, "geez, girl, where have you been hiding this look?" He asks, a little too loud.   
"Oh, I want to see." Elizabeth chirps,   
"No, no, no, come on!" You splutter, grabbing at the phone,   
"Wowza, you look phenomenal!"   
"Come on, guys, that's enough." You make to grab at the phone again as it's tossed across the table to Nick and Ming.  
"Alright, break it up folks." Iain calls snatching the phone and pocketing it, before taking his seat next to you. he had just been walking back from the restroom when he saw what was happening. Perfect timing.   
"Ha ha, very funny, now give me back my phone." Chloe says. Iain takes the phone out, fiddling with it a bit before tossing it back, just in time for her to catch the "photo deleted" notification. "Hey! I liked that picture. The angle was so cool, and the lighting--" she said  
"Yeah, yeah. You should have thought of that before." He replied with a shrug. While everyone knows he's half joking, he's also very serious in his defense for you.  
"Oh, Iain, my hero." You sigh melodramatically, laying your head on his shoulder in a mock swoon. The group snorts and chuckles at the two of you and the conversations resume. You miss the look Chloe gives Iain when she sees that he texted himself the photo before deleting it.

 

After dinner, Iain walks you and Elizabeth to the hotel room you're sharing, down the hall from Chloe, a only floor away from him. You all say your good nights and Elizabeth goes inside, but Iain catches your arm, getting your attention,  
"What's up?” He flounders for a moment, opening his mouth to speak, then thinking better of it, “Iain, It's getting late and we all have to wake up at an ungodly hour tomorrow." You say. He cracks a smile, but looks a little nervous.  
"I just have a quick question..." He shifts on his feet and looks around the hall, stuffing his hands in his pockets,  
"Is it a question you'll ask sometime tonight?" You tease. You must admit, it's pretty adorable when he gets flustered.  
"Would you maybe-- possibly-- be interested in-- would you like to get a cup of tea-- coffee-- a drink with me? Not tonight, obviously. Maybe, I was thinking Friday, if you're not busy, that is. If you are--"  
"Iain."  
"Yup,"  
"I'd love to." You smile, kissing him on the cheek and saying goodnight.   
He can’t hold back the smile, or the relieved sigh; you do your best to keep your composure until you are safely closed inside your room.  
While you both have trouble actually falling asleep, when rest finally comes, you can’t stop smiling.


	3. The Date

You have spent two hours agonizing over what you should be wearing to this coffee date with Iain.   
"Just a cup of coffee. Just a cup of coffee. Not even dinner, just a casual afternoon drink, just like any lunch date, with any other friend." You try to calm yourself, but it wasn't just any lunch date, was it? You and Iain had been friends for a while now, maybe not for years, but when you were brought on as a recurring character seven months ago, you two had hit it off. Similar personalities, so many likes and dislikes in common, you enjoyed spending time together, so why were you so nervous? ...Because you want something to come of this.  
You finally decide on your nicest jeans with your favorite butter-yellow baby doll top, it flowed just right and hugged you well, but wasn't overly dressy. Perfect. You opted for flats instead of heels, light makeup, and you left your hair down. One more look in the full length mirror and you think you may be ready.   
Yup, one more mental slap in the face and you're good to go. 'Just enjoy the company,' you tell yourself.  
Twenty minutes later you find yourself shakily reaching for the door of the coffeehouse. You take a breath and step in, almost immediately spotting him as he waves and smiles. He almost looks relieved, and you notice just seeing him smile makes most of your jitters dissipate. Despite feeling like a character from a Nicholas Spark novel, maybe this would be doable after all.

"You look lovely," he says brightly.  
"Thanks, lookin' good yourself." You smile, "now, I've never been here before, what's good?" You ask perusing the menu over the front counter.   
"Just about everything. I'd steer away from the green teas, and anything that says 'skinny' or 'latte'."   
"So, skinny green tea latte..."  
"Run. Fast and far."   
You chuckle at each other's cheesy jokes for a few minutes as you make up your minds.   
"I think I'll be boring and go with a mocha."   
"You got it." He walks with you over to the table he's saved and pulls the chair out for you. As you sit, your stomach rumbles quietly, you forgot to order something to eat but couldn't bring yourself to say anything. When he comes back from ordering, he's carrying two plates,  
"You haven't mentioned any food allergies and I wanted you to try these, they're my favorites. So we have a Bakewell tart, which has raspberries and almond, and a quiche with ham, eggs, cheese, spinach, and other assorted good-for-you stuff. Are we good so far?" Your stomach answers for you as it growls loudly.   
"I was going to mess with you a bit, but I'm too hungry. No food allergies. It all sounds wonderful."  
"Alright then, tuck in." 

As you are both eating, your drinks arrive,  
"So." You say, trying to jumpstart a conversation,  
"So." He replies, not helping at all,  
"Why now?" He tilts his head slightly in question. "What made you ask me out now? Out of the blue?" He looks a little guilty and pulls out his phone, you're starting to think he’s dodging the question when he slides his phone toward you.   
The dress.  
You pause, "You deleted this from Chloe's phone, why do you have it?"  
"I texted it to myself first. It really is a stunning picture of you." You give him a funny look, feeling a little odd about him having a picture of you in such a revealing dress, especially since he seemed to want to keep it secret.  
"Why did you want it?" You ask slowly, half dreading the answer,  
"Whoa, no! No, no, no, not that. I just figured-- I mean I thought maybe-- I thought it would be safer with me." Relieved as you are, you look at him, feeling a little confused. "Chloe kept showing it off, I have a feeling Lizzy would do the same if she got her hands on it..." A blush has started creeping up is cheeks and down his neck, "it was innocently motivated." He offers. But now you can see it.  
"You were jealous?" You ask, the realization doing nothing to ease your confusion.   
"I suppose so."  
"Why? Of whom?"  
"I guess it was just seeing Nick and B.J. reactin' like that, I started gettin' protective." You can't help smile as your heart flutters a little bit. "As for why: I've been trying to work up the guts to ask you out for the past eight months."  
"Iain…"  
"Yeah?"  
"We met seven months ago."  
"I know, but that wasn't the first time I saw you." Your eyebrows raise and you blink a few times, not knowing what to say. You do know that you are in serious danger of falling for this man. Eight months ago was your first visit to the set after getting the role. You met with the Whedons and the first director you would be working with, as well as having a fitting for your wardrobe. "You were fangirling over Joss and Jed, gettin’ so excited about working on a Marvel project. When we heard a little later that you were joining our ranks...” He pauses and sighs, “I had planned on doing this a while ago, I guess I was just afraid of getting shot down."   
"So this was what? Love at first sight?" You half-joke. He starts to smile and reaches over to take your hand,  
"Something like that."


	4. Unwinding

Your entire Saturday was taken up by training with Brett for a few upcoming fights. You could swear that even your hair hurt. All you wanted to do was crack open a bottle of wine, sink into a hot bath, and let your muscles uncoil to the crooning of Frank Sinatra, but first, you actually had to make it up to your suite. Your driver had to help you out of the car when you could hardly scoot toward the door; grunting with every step, you barely make it to the elevator. By the time you get to your room, you don't even feel like trying to get to the tub, but you know that if you lay down just inside the door, you'll probably die there. You start shedding clothing as you make your way to the bathroom: your shoes by the door, jacket on the desk, you strip your shirt off and toss it onto the counter and nearly get your jeans unbuttoned when you hear someone clear their throat. You spin around with a squeal, trying to cover yourself,  
"Iain!" You yelp when you finally recognize him, he looks you up and down before realizing his indiscretion and covers his eyes, though he can't suppress his smirk.   
"Did you not notice all your lights were on, then?" He snorts, and hands you your shirt. You grunt and groan trying to get it back on. "You alright, love?"   
"Got beat up by Brett all day… he calls it training. Now what are you doing here? You scared the living crap out of me."   
"Well that's a right lovely way of greeting your boyfriend-- kind of... Friend... Who's a guy..." He stutters at his slip-up, you've been out three times in the last two weeks, but hadn't made it official.   
"You're only kind of my boyfriend?" You say standing behind him where he sat on the couch, looking at him with your best puppy dog eyes. His blush deepens a little bit. You make a mental note of that for future reference.   
"You tell me." Instead you drag him to you by the back of the neck and lean forward,   
"Ouch!" You yell and fold over the back of the couch.  
"Oh come on, now, I haven't even had the chance to be bad." Despite your pain, you giggle,  
"No, I'm so sore I can hardly move. Honestly, hon, I was planning on a quiet night in the tub, I'm sorry." Iain smiles softly at you and leads you to the bathroom,   
"I figured you would be hurtin’ after a day with Brett. You're all set." The bathroom was decked out with candles, the bubble bath still steaming, "holler if you need my help." He says waggling his eyebrows. You plant a kiss on his forehead with a chuckle and close the bathroom door.   
An hour later you can actually move, you've cleaned off all the grunge of spending a whole day in the gym, and you've relaxed enough that you feel you could actually sleep well for once. You wrap up in a robe and step out into the chilly suite and see Iain on the couch watching whatever was on late night T.V. You gesture for him to give you a minute as you grab your pajamas. Soon you find yourself curled up on the couch, feet tucked under you, leaning into his side with his arm wrapped around your shoulder. You laugh at Conan O'Brien and Jimmy Fallon, before he gets ready to call it a night.   
"You know, I noticed you never answered me."   
"Huh?" Your groggy mind refused to work with you   
"We haven't made us official, and I know I want this to be something... So, I'm officially asking you... If you would be my girlfriend... Officially."   
You can't help smiling at him when he gets flustered.  
"Of course." You look him in the eyes and once again lean into him, finally sealing your lips against his. He has one hand at your waist as the other cards through your hair. You both press desperately to each other as the room seems to warm several degrees.   
No. This is too soon.  
You pull back gently, nudging at Iain's chest when his lips try to follow yours.   
"Good night." You whisper in his ear.  
"Agh, ya tryin’ to kill me here?" He gives you one last kiss below your ear and pauses to catch his breath. He sighs, "I'll see you on set Monday then?"  
"Play your cards right, you may just get a date tomorrow." You joke with a wink and you kiss him one last time on the cheek. He says goodnight and makes himself leave, convinced if he stayed any longer he never would.   
You flop onto your bed. Giddy. What are you getting yourself into? Dating a coworker, a relationship that will be long distance on the off seasons. You wonder for a moment if you can make this work. Only time will tell, you suppose.


	5. Disclosure

Well, Iain had, in fact, played his cards right. The two of you went to a movie Sunday night after a casual dinner. Unfortunately, you both had to turn in early due to work the next day. Now Monday morning finds you trudging to the hair and makeup trailer, but no matter what you do, you can't wipe the smile off your face as you remember the company of the night before.   
"Well, what's got you so chipper this morning?" Elizabeth pulls you from your reverie,   
"I wouldn't exactly say 'chipper', so much as 'not-so-grumpy'." It was no secret that you were definitely not a morning person, often falling asleep as Jen tries to finish your makeup,   
"Okay, then what is keeping you from grumpiness this morning?" Another smile works its way across your face,  
"My boyfriend." Both girls' heads whirl around   
"What boyfriend? You never mentioned a boyfriend!" Chloe says, getting excited, "what's he like? Do either of us know him?" Obviously Chloe hadn't been paying much attention to you and Iain, but if the sudden protective vibe currently emanating from Elizabeth was anything to go by, she had.   
"Well," you begin, "he's incredibly sweet, makes me laugh, we both have the same stupid sense of humor, he calms me down, makes me feel safe and relaxed. He actually helped me out this weekend after training with Brett."   
"Oh, so he lives in the area." Chloe asks,  
"Temporarily." You answer vaguely, wanting to see how long it will take her to get it.   
"Okay, he travels for work?"   
"Yep."  
"Where is he from originally?"   
"Scotland. Glasgow." You watch her closely. Waiting. Finally you see the realization dawn on her,  
"Not Iain."  
"Yes, Iain." You giggle. She squeals, earning a gentle shush from Megan, who is currently trying to curl Chloe's hair.  
"That's so exciting! You two are so cute together." She gushes. Elizabeth just smiles lightly as the girl talk commences.   
As you're walking to set afterward, she takes hold of your elbow,  
"Sorry, Y/N, can I have a quick word?" You step aside with her for a moment, checking your watch discreetly, making sure you aren't running late,  
"I know Chloe is excited for you, and you and Iain seem to be very happy together, but I just have something I have to say," you brace yourself for something horrible, some lecture about the impracticality of dating a coworker, "Iain can be very passionate about things he cares about. And sometimes that can cause him to be impulsive and spontaneous, and he gets himself in too deep without thinking things through. He means a lot to me. Much like a brother. And seeing him get hurt is the last thing I want, so just promise me you won't hurt him..." you breathe a sigh of relief,   
"Elizabeth, I don't think you have anything to worry about. Yes, this is new, and it may seem sudden to you guys, but honestly, for us it's been a long time coming. Besides, we only just started dating, it's not like we just got engaged." You chuckle lightly at her protectiveness,  
"No... At least not yet." She chuckles with a wink. Your stomach jumps a little at that thought, and not from excitement. "Just promise that you're looking out for him. That you have his back." You smile softly at that,   
"Now that is something I can promise." You walk onto the set together, Iain smiles and winks when he spots you, and you can't stop the blush that crawls up your cheeks. Henry whistles jokingly, causing scattered laughter on set. Overall, a good start to a work week, though on the drive back to the hotel, you can't shake that fear in your stomach. You weren't sure yet if you want to get married. Even to Iain. What if that's what he wanted? And kids? Oh, God forbid he wants kids. You can't even stomach the thought of that argument now. Soon you're drowning in your own worries, not wanting to hurt Iain, but feeling a bit like a deer in the headlights considering how your future was looking right now.  
Oh, what did you go and do?


	6. Head in the Clouds

Filming completed at the end of the next month, you were all going to get three months off and then the press tour started. After a night of celebration, thanks to Ming, you and Iain find yourselves standing in the airport, trying to say goodbye. His flight was an hour later than yours, and they were both at the same end of LAX, so he insisted on walking you to your gate. 

"I'll call you when I land, what's the time difference between Boston and Glasgow?" He asks,

"Five or six hours, I think.” You reply, “We'll also email, maybe you'd be able to text me?" he scrunches his nose slightly, 

"The rates are insane. Skype, though, for sure, and facetime. And I know how much you love getting letters." He pulls back from the hundredth hug he's given you today, and looks you straight in the eyes, "we'll make this work. And we get to see each other in three months, yeah? The time'll fly."

"Three months." You nod, trying to convince yourself, and force a smile. You hear them call your section for boarding and turn toward the gate, but you freeze and turn back, pulling Iain to you one more time. You give him a goodbye kiss that was maybe a little less hopeful than you had intended. You are still a little unnerved about that comment Elizabeth made last month, but you can't bring yourself to talk to Iain about it, not until you at least figure out what it might mean for the two of you. And now you have a five and a half hour flight to think it over. You pull back and he wavers a little bit. 

"Wow." He mutters, a goofy smile plastered on his face. He tucks some of your hair behind your ear, takes one more good look at you and picks up his bags. "I'll call you when I land." He says again, you nod and he's on his way, you board your flight without letting yourself look back again. 

The entire flight you think about how serious your relationship is. You've been dating a month, which is still a bit early to say where it would go, but you are both adults who are getting to the point where casual dating isn't all that appealing. At least for some, and he seemed to be one of those interested in more. Iain is one of your best friends now, which is a great place for a relationship to start, but taking it beyond friendship, the two people can rarely go back if things get too serious. So your bottom line was, above all, you wanted maintain your friendship with Iain. You want to be closer than just a friend, but you don't want a husband. And you don't want children. After seeing your mother deal with the abusive deadbeat that was your father, and then watching your sister follow suit with her two ex-husbands, the last thing you were going to do was be a part of that cycle, so you decided a long time ago, soon after your father drank himself to death, that no matter how nice someone seemed, marriage was off the table. The question was, are the two of you too new to this relationship to bring this up now? Or would it be better to get it out of the way before things go too far?

Your connecting flight is delayed by five hours, you get stuck next to a baby on the second flight, causing a migraine. You finally land in Boston and catch a cab back to your apartment. Your home almost feels like an old memory after living in a hotel room for eight months, like you're stepping into a picture of one of your favorite places. It almost doesn't feel real. After the party last night, the goodbyes, the flights and your brain working on overthinking your situation in every way possible, you can't even bring yourself to unpack, so you just flop onto the couch, still wearing coat and shoes. Last time you looked at the clock it was around 10:30am. Somewhere in The back of your mind, you remember that Iain should be calling in an hour or so. You close your eyes for a second and relax, and when you open them, the clock reads 3pm. You jump up from the couch, instantly regretting it when your back and neck scream. You must remember not to sleep on this couch again. You fish your phone out of your coat pocket and find 12 texts, 4 missed calls, and a voicemail. A glance at the texts tells you they're all from Boston friends welcoming you home. A missed call from your best friend here in town, two from 800 numbers, and the last from Iain. You pull up your voicemail. 

"Evening, love. Plane landed, I'm on my way home. I really thought I'd catch you. By my math it should be about 1 in the afternoon there, but oh well. I know how exhausting traveling can be, especially after workin’ so much. If you could call me back soon, it'd be nice, just wanna know you made it home alright. Talk to you later love." 3pm now. You check the difference, should be 8pm there. If his flight experience was anything like yours you know he'll need the extra sleep. You decide to leave it until tomorrow. Emailing him instead that you made it back safely and promptly passed out on the couch. Insisting you didn’t want to risk waking him or cutting into family time by calling.   
When the email is sent, you tromp down the hallway to your room and don't even have the energy to get properly ready for bed, but your attempt at sleep proves restless and not until the sunset paints your walls pink, orange and yellow are you able to fall asleep.   
You dream of Iain.


	7. 3 Months Later

The past three months had passed with sporadic Skype dates, filled with chatter of daily activities, and phone calls after full days spent at the gym; even from three-thousand miles away, he was still helping you unwind. The more you talk, the more you remember why you enjoy his company so much, which is why no one could blame you for running into his arms, like some cheesy chick flick leading lady, when you spot him at the hotel.  
"Agh, how are you, love?" He asks breathes near your ear, holding you tight. You answer by kissing him so deeply it almost sends you reeling. You distantly hear B.J. And Brett whistling at you two, so you defiantly pull him even closer as he dips you back slightly.  
"Be careful, now, it's been a long while, and I really *really* missed you." He whispers breathlessly by your ear. You discreetly let him go when you finally understand what he's telling you.  
"Sorry." You say with a chuckle,  
"Oh, don't be." He replies with a twinkle in his eye,  
"Okay, lovebirds, unless you want to show up on the fansites, we should probably get moving." Ming says, nudging everyone toward the elevators.  
This is where the press tour for the current season begins, from the interview line up you were sent, it looks like you will be doing interviews partnered with Brett. But you share a room with Chloe this time, you can see it now: Neither of you sleeping because you're too busy watching corny 90s movies and giggling like crazy. This could get interesting.  
Since the first day is a free day to get settled in before interviews, you take your time unpacking, get a shower, and you're about to lay down for a nap when Chloe bounces onto your bed, "No, no, sleeping beauty. We gotta go out and have fun while we can." You groan, wanting anything but an evening on the town. "Come on, Ming wants us all to meet in the hotel bar and grill for a toast to the press tour. You have half an hour, come on!"  
She tugs your legs until you crumple to the ground like a rag doll.  
"I miss my old roommate!" You whine, making Chloe chuckle.  
"You won't miss her quite so much after I make you over and you make Iain's jaw drop." You snort, but you're somewhat afraid of what may come next.

Forty minutes later, you both walk in to the hotel restaurant, and are shown to the table that is already alive with conversation. Iain stands, eyes wide as he looks you up and down. He pulls your chair out for you, "You look amazing." He says, kissing your cheek before he sits back down. Whistles and 'aw's sound out around the table,  
"Okay, come on, grow up." You jab.  
Dinner is served quickly, and tastes amazing, everyone is trying to give you advice on how to handle your first press tour: Don't give any big details from any episodes, try to stay chipper and friendly, stock up on red bull or five hour energy, expect to be tired, and so forth. Just the talk is starting to exhaust you, so you try to change the subject.  
"That farewell party was something else, Ming. I mean, a bouncy castle? That thing was bigger than my apartment."  
"Oh, Sylvia loved it in there," Brett piped up, "I was starting to worry that her energy was just going to keep renewing and she wouldn't tire herself out with it,"  
"Then she fell asleep inside and you sent me in to get her." Iain offered with a laugh,  
"Yeah, I noticed you were really good with her." Brett says, "thinking you have a future wrangling little ones."  
"Maybe." Iain says, looking at you, the fondness in his eyes breaking your heart. Your stomach twists at the thought. A thought you'd worked so hard to avoid.  
You feel yourself go pale,  
"Excuse me." You squeak to those around you as you stand up. "I think I'm going to turn in. All the... Interview talk has kinda taken it out of me." You turn and head out, leaving a few people at the table in confused silence. You hear a couple of whispering voices, and someone gets up to follow you, but you can't quite out run them.  
"What's the matter?" Iain asks as he takes hold of your elbow.  
"Nothing, I just need to get some rest."  
"You look like you've seen a ghost... I didn’t scare you, did I?"  
You want so badly to just scream 'yes! This is just too much right now!' But the lobby of your hotel is not the place to bring it up.  
"Iain, I'm tired, and I'm worried about tomorrow, so can you just let me get back to my room?" He steps in closer, looking deadly serious. "Something is wrong. I need you to tell me what it is, so I can help you."  
You finally cave and you both go back to your room to talk.  
“This is too much. I really care about you, but I don’t want a husband or children, or the white picket fence… certainly not right now.”  
"So... Wait... You're saying you don't see us going anywhere, is that it?" He looks at you like a kicked puppy, "are we just wasting our time being together?"  
You pause. Seriously thinking through your answer. You had seen him running around with Sylvia, you knew he was great with kids. You knew what he wanted you to say:  
"No, we'll be fine. Things change." But you can't bring yourself to say it  
"Yes. I think we might be... But I don't want to lose you." He gulps and nods lightly,  
"Are you sure about that? Because you don't seem to really want me." He moves to leave and you grab his wrist,  
“Iain, please don’t leave us like this—“  
He gets up and leaves without another word, ignoring your protests.


	8. Cold Shoulder

Chloe gets back to room an hour later, you're still dressed, and still crying, but you've curled up on your bed, under the covers, clutching one of your pillows.  
"Hey, what happened?" She asks. You just shake your head. Just wanting to sink through the mattress and disappear.  
"Elizabeth is going to kill me." You groan,  
"What? Why?"  
"Because I'm an idiot."  
"Yeah, that doesn't sound like her, so I'm gonna need a little more info here." You feel the mattress sink at your back as she kneels next to you. The tears, which had only just stopped, started flowing freely once more,  
"Iain and I just broke up."  
"No way! Why?" You don't answer, you try to dry your eyes, but just succeed in smudging your makeup all over your face and pillow. "Wait, is this because of what Brett said?" You burrow deeper into the pillows and covers, but Chloe digs you out and pulls you into the bathroom, "Come on. We're going to get you cleaned up and you're going to tell me what went wrong." She drags you against your will into the bathroom and you slump down on the side of the bathtub as she helps you take down your hair and scrape off your makeup.  
"I don't know what's wrong with me. One minute I don't want to be away from him, the next minute I feel claustrophobic and I have to get out."  
"Hey, I hear ya. Sometimes the idea of being tied down to one person the rest of my life terrifies me."  
"But you and Austin are still together?"  
"Well, yeah. The future is always scary, but I love him. I'm not giving up my time with him because I get a little spooked." She hands you your pajamas and leaves the room, leaving you alone to get dressed and think things over.  
She doesn't press for any more information when you come out and crawl back into bed, but she does get excited when she finds Sixteen Candles is playing on TBS, she jumps back into your bed and makes you watch it with her commentary. By the end of the night, you have to admit that you feel a little bit better, but you are dreading however tomorrow may turn out.  
.  
.  
.  
The interviews are just as exhausting as everyone mentioned, and you're really starting to feel a bit like a broken record as most of the interviewers ask the same questions. By the end of the day, you're wondering if you can do it over again tomorrow. At dinner that night you notice Iain's missing.  
"Iain sends his apologies, but the poor thing started coming down with a nasty chest cold this morning."  
You frown. “He was fine yesterday, what happened?”  
“Yeah, he didn’t sleep too well, heard him tossing and turning all night, and by this morning was hacking and coughing. By the end of the interviews he’d nearly lost his voice.”  
An idea takes root in your mind. You hated the thought of him having to be alone when he's so sick, but you try to take part in the conversation for a little while. It's hard to follow and contribute when your mind is miles away. You want to share in the jokes and admit to your own interview bloopers, but there is something else you have to do.  
After a reasonable length of time you excuse yourself for the night, but discreetly order vegetable soup and French bread to go, before you make your way to Iain's room.  
.  
.  
"Hang on." Iain croaks from somewhere in the room. He really does sound horribly sick. When he opens the door you see his shoulders slump a little bit.  
"I brought you some soup."  
"I'm not hungry."  
"But I need to talk to you. And you need to eat."  
"But I don't want either." You grit your teeth slightly at his stubbornness, and invite yourself into his room anyway, pushing past him without a problem.  
"You should get back in bed,"  
"I know, but I have an unwanted guest at the moment that I can't seem to get rid--"  
"And you should rest your voice, you sound awful." You nudge him toward the bed until he moves, albeit grudgingly.  
You pull the soup and bread out of the bag you brought and set them on the nightstand next to Iain, who watches every move you make. You push the styrofoam cup and plastic spoon toward him, and when he doesn't even look at it, you pick it up, sit next to him on the bed and start trying to spoon feed him.  
"Why are you bothering?" He bites out  
"I want you to get better."  
"But why?"  
"Listen." You say nearly slamming the cup of soup down on the nightstand. Your words come out rather harshly as your limited patience beings to wear thin, "just because I think I'm a lousy girlfriend for you, it doesn't mean that I don't care about you. It's because I care--"  
"That you thought we would do better apart?"  
"Hey! I don't want to be apart from you… I just don't want to waste your time." He sighs, "this is why I came by."  
"I thought you were trying to help me get better." He says with enough bite that you had two count to ten before you replied.  
"I am. I wanted to show you how much I care about you as a friend. How I want to make sure you are taken care of, and happy. So I wanted to ask you if you could possibly find it in yourself to forgive me for hurting you, just enough that we could stay friends. As much as our imagined futures differ, I don't want one completely devoid of you."  
You wait, feeling like you're in limbo, watching his unchanging expression hoping for an answer. He never speaks. He doesn't smile. He doesn't take your hand. He reaches over to take the cup of soup and eats.


	9. Rock Lobster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is embarrassingly short, and I'm terribly sorry for that, but it's just a little filler chapter that I can't seem to find a good way to lengthen.

Iain gets better a couple of days later, the two of you settling into a somewhat awkward, though civil, routine of minimal interaction. The press tour probably would have been harder to get through if you had been partnered with Iain or Elizabeth, but doing interviews with Brett and bunking with Chloe, you felt it gave all of you enough time apart that having to sit near each other at meals or on panels you felt like nerves weren't quite so frayed. You felt like you would actually be okay. There was no playful banter between you three for a little while, but one day assured you your friendship was on the mend:

The last round of interviews had just finished and the group was out for one last dinner, coupled with karaoke, before launching into the filming of the next season. In all honesty you had probably had a little too much to drink, otherwise there was no way you would have found yourself in the spotlight, singing Rock Lobster. You figure since you're up there, you might as well pour yourself into it.   
You know you get half the words wrong, but how would anyone know, the lyrics don’t make sense anyway, so you focus more on your choreography. Somewhere in the back of your mind you know this will end up on youtube, but you can’t bring yourself to care, you’re having too much fun. Before you know it, you have the whole karaoke bar laughing, and they’re not even laughing at you, they seem to be enjoying the show. You bow when the applause starts, woots and whistles accompany you as you stumble back to your table and breathlessly take your seat. Elizabeth was cheering for you along with the rest of your table, and just as the room quiets down, ready for the next victim, Iain reaches over and pats you on the back, still laughing and smiling bigger than you'd seen since your talk. That's when you knew for sure that you would be alright.


	10. Back to One

It’s been two years since the breakup, and you and Iain have settled into a comfortable friendship. You've helped each other through tough days when exhaustion was getting the upper hand, you've pressed each other's buttons like siblings and laughed like you used to. Things were good.   
Today on set there was a stunt planned that was not unlike the ones you had been doing for the past six months, lots of wire work, being thrown into walls, falling to the ground. This one included a small explosion, and you were going on take 5. After hitting the wall so many times, you were really starting to get stiff and your head was starting to ache from being whipped around. The down time you had while they were resetting wasn't helping.   
"Alright, let's hope this is the last time. Places everyone." Your director tells, everyone is getting tired, everyone is getting sore, either from the stunt or the clean up.   
You take a breath, try to look natural, instead of like you were bracing yourself for flight.  
"Action!"  
"So that the car bomb was a fake? Why would someone fake a bomb?"  
"Distraction." 'May' says,  
"But from what?"  
'Fitz' straightens up suddenly and 'Simmons' looks at him wide-eyed, as she comes to the same realization.  
"To get us off the bus." They say in unison. Everyone starts to run toward the door right as the explosion goes off, you turn just a little bit late. You missed your mark, so when you go flying, you spin around and it throws you off course just enough.  
You feel a shooting pain down your back and everything goes black.  
.  
.  
.  
As fun as it was to fly through the air like that, the landing was anything but graceful and there were groans all around as everyone tried to recover yet again,  
"Whoa! You okay there, Y/N?" Henry calls, seeing that you aren’t getting up. Everyone pauses when you don't answer, "Hey, you still with us?"   
He jokes, crawling the few feet over to check on you, waving frantically for the medics when he sees you're unconscious.   
Most of the cast is frozen, partly in worried confusion, partly in hopeful disbelief, but Iain crosses the room in just a few paces and is by your side, hand on your cheek.  
"Y/N, open your eyes. Come on, look at me." His voice wavers slightly with worry, he runs his fingers through your hair until he's pushed aside gently by the EMTs,  
"Please step back, we need to take a look." Henry pulls him back.   
Iain stands, shifting from foot to foot. He starts wringing his hands when he notices they're wet. He looks down at the blood spread over his right hand and grabs hold of Henry's shoulder, getting his attention. Iain holds up his hand, his face going deathly pale. Chloe, who's made her way to Iain's side gasps when she sees the blood, and Henry stiffens, his anxiety doubled.   
They all look down at you, Henry keeping his hand on Iain's shoulder to keep him from getting underfoot. He knows the only thing Iain wants is to hold you and make sure you're alright, but none of you can know that until the EMTs are finished.  
They thoroughly check your neck and back before putting a brace on you and check your head. One EMT shines a light in your eyes as the other assesses the damage at the back.   
"She's waking up," you hear one of them say as your eyes flutter open slightly, unevenly. Where were you?  
"Iain?" Your voice barely audible, you try to bat away the hands painfully prodding your head and the piercing light that's shining in your eyes, "Iain..." You start crying, though you aren't sure why. You're scared, the room is spinning, your stomach is knotted painfully, and crying is just making your head hurt even more.   
"I'm right here, what do you need?" He says with a sniff. Why has he been crying? What happened? You reach your hand out to him.  
"Iain. What--"  
"You're gonna be okay, sweetheart. Just an accident." He grasps your hand with both hands like he's afraid you'll slip away,  
"Was I driving? Are you okay?"  
"Not a car accident. You're on set. You hit your head on the wall. They're getting you fixed up and you'll be getting better in no time."  
You try to understand,  
"Set? What set?" You try to look around but you can't turn your head for the brace.   
"I need you to stay still, we're trying to make sure you don't get hurt further, okay?" The EMT puts her hand on your shoulder, speaks gently,  
"Iain... My head."  
"Yeah," he chuckles lightly, trying to make you feel at ease "you got quite the bump, didn't you?" that wasn't it,  
"No, my head... It feels funny--" your eyes roll back in your head and your hand grips his even tighter, your whole body goes rigid and begins jerking as the seizure takes you all by surprise,  
"Y/N! What's happening to her?"   
"Please step back." B.J. Is by Iain's side, pulling him back just enough to be out of the way. The commotion frightening and sobering, the EMTs barks orders at each other as they try to stabilize you.  
"Let them take care of her, man. They know what they're doing." He speaks around a lump in his throat, trying as much to convince himself that you'll be alright.   
"No, come on, work with me, girl." One of the medics says to you. "She's stopped breathing... And I can't get a pulse. I need a defibrillator!" He yells as he starts CPR.  
Elizabeth can't help it anymore and starts crying, she comes to Iain, wrapping him in a hug and hides her face by his neck,  
"Don't worry Lizzy, she'll be fine." He whispers, wishing he could believe it. "She's stubborn as a mule. She'll be fine."  
His tears fall against his will, he turns away, hugging Elizabeth, he can't watch you like this when he knows he can't do anything. All the while hearing the events behind him. He hears the charge. The shock. The EMTs counting compressions. "Clear!" "Charging... Clear! Charging..."  
"Wait!" He spins around at the unexpected command. The medic has two fingers on your neck, "She's back. Let's get her to the hospital."


	11. Fog

Your first conscious thought is about that horrible bird that won't stop chirping. You try to open your eyes but the room is just too bright, and your limbs feel like lead. You groan, trying to remember what day it was so you could decide if it was time to get up or not.   
"Y/N?"   
"Iain?" You croak, Why was he here? Why was your throat so dry?  
"How are you feeling?"  
"Like I could go back to sleep for a week." You slur. You finally open your eye just a crack, squinting into the white room. Wait, white? You look around, "Where am I?" White walls, sheer curtains over the windows, white floors, scratchy sheets, the bird... Not a bird but a heart rate monitor,  
"You're in the hospital." Your eyes dart back to him. "What's the last thing you remember?"  
You try to concentrate, but your head starts to throb,   
"Ouch, no remembering. Remembering: bad." You rub your head and find a bandage wrapped all the way around.  
"You have five stitches in the back of your head." Iain takes your hand so you stop trying to mess with the bandage. "We were on set, you hit the wall during a stunt." He prompts, trying to help your memory. Somewhere through the dull but consuming pain, you think of something, a hazy image of Iain holding your hand.  
"So I was knocked out?"  
"You had a seizure, actually." He takes a breath. "Sweetheart, your heart stopped for a little over a minute." You look at him wide eyed.  
"I died?"   
"Technically. And that was two days ago." You lost two days? More really, you can’t remember the stunt he's talking about. But he looks like he's fighting back tears at the memory. You tug on his hand until he comes closer, then you draw his head down to yours and kiss him on the forehead,  
"I'm alright now. Right?" He nods, sighing, resting his forehead on yours,  
"You should be released in the next day or so, but you need someone around to keep an eye on you. Get ready to have no time to yourself." You chuckle as he sits back down, but you never let go of his hand.  
.  
.  
.  
Two days later you are deemed well enough to leave. This past year, when you had come back to L.A. For filming, you decided it would be easier on you to lease a small apartment in town so you wouldn't be living out of a hotel room. When you make it back to your place, you're greeted with some familiar faces. The cast is there to briefly welcome you home, bringing you cards and flowers and a lot of hugs. As folks start trickling out, each heading home to get ready for the week of filming, you notice someone you don't know. At least you think you don't. There was a young woman there, about your age, whose face was vaguely familiar,   
"Y/N, this is Nicky, my sister, you've met once or twice before, do you remember?" Iain reintroduces you,  
"I think... Maybe..."   
"It's alright," she says easily, "we'll have plenty of time to get to know each other."   
"We will?" You look to Iain, who looks a little sheepish,   
"Yeah, Nicky came out here to help us keep an eye on you..."  
"Iain, I'm not helpless, I'll be fine."  
"I know, but the doctor said it would be a good idea to have someone around until we know for sure that you're healing up right, and with work, most of us won't be able to be here some of the time."  
"It's just in case." Nicky offers. Knowing you aren't going to win this fight you sigh and shrug in defeat. She and Iain smile, you think you've seen that before and it makes you feel a little more at ease.   
That night you three discuss the sleeping situation over dinner, cooked by Nicky. You could get used to having her around. Iain would come by as often as he could, Nicky would stay overnight, insisting the couch would work just fine, and they - teamed up with Ming, Clark, Chloe and Brett, and occasionally B.J. - would make sure you were taking care of yourself.   
As suffocating as you originally felt by the realization that alone time would be hard to come by for awhile, you have to fight back tears when it occurs to you how many people truly care about your wellbeing, beyond just meeting up with you after coming home from the hospital, but actually taking extra time out of their days to help you recuperate. You hadn't felt so cared for, so loved, before, and it made your heart swell. You are sitting on your couch, snuggled up to Iain, next to his sister, who you barely knew, but already seem to be best friends with. You're all three watching a movie, and you choke back your tears. You feel safe.


	12. Convalescence

You look up at Nicky, sitting across the table from you. She's staring, eyes narrowed. You try not to flinch.  
"Jacks."  
"Go fish."  
"Dang it!" You laugh triumphantly as she draws a card. "You're not cheatin’?"  
"Would you stop me if I was? Come on, I'm convalescing, just give me this one... And no, I'm not." You were killing time until Iain came back, he texted you an hour ago saying he was bringing dinner. Every night since you'd gotten back, someone had either brought dinner or come over to eat and visit. You were being well cared for.   
"Did he say when he'd be here?" Nicky asks, her stomach growling loudly.   
"Nope, just that it would be soon." Just then, you hear keys at the door and someone seeming to struggle with an armful of bags. You jump up and help as soon as Iain walks in, looking a bit overwhelmed.   
"I hope Chinese is good with you two." The smells waft up to you and your mouth waters,  
"You got egg rolls, right?" Nicky calls from the kitchen area where she's setting the table.  
"Nick, don't worry about the table, let's sit in here." Iain calls, showing the movie he rented.   
"Trainspotting?" You laugh, he'd been trying to get you to watch it for months,   
"There's no hiding now. You're watching this. And you're gonna like it... Okay I actually can't guarantee that, but I think you will." Nicky brings some dishes into the living area while you grab the drinks,   
"Ooh, Trainspotting!" You hear Nicky say excitedly. She was a fun one to have around, in the past two and a half weeks she has rescued you from yourself so many times. Whenever you looked like you were going into a bout of depression or you were having a particularly rough day of pain that the meds just wouldn't touch, she would make you focus on something else, playing card games or showing you random videos on her phone. Even once setting up a furniture fort in the living room and watching a Firefly marathon with you. You were set for a follow up doctor's appointment in just two days, when you would get your stitches out and be told when you could go back to work, though you weren't entirely sure if you were ready. You had been sent the script for the next episode, and you had been working on it, but you couldn't quite make things stick, certainly not like they used to. Occasionally you would forget something fairly small, like where you set your coffee mug (in the microwave), or your keys (in the freezer), or you would forget to put water in the kettle when you tried to make tea, but the important stuff seemed to stay with you. The worst thing you'd forgotten so far was how to get to the studios where your production's soundstage was. But now your memory block seemed to be working overtime to keep you from retaining your dialogue. The writers had worked your absence into the storyline without anything too terrible happening to your character, but you weren't sure how much longer they could wait for you.   
"Oi, Y/N! Are you trying to hide in the cabinet or something?" Nicky calls,   
"Face it, you're going to have to watch this sooner or later. Might as well be now since it's already starting." Iain teases. You smile and shake your head at them. Being held hostage by Scottish captors, twin siblings no less, had been more than a little amusing. You reemerge from the kitchen with an armful of cold drinks, "Did you get lost?" He asks, helping you set the bottles down.   
"Thinking too hard, so, kind of." You smile,   
"Dangerous territory, that." Nicky jokes, "I'm tellin’ you, you'll have more fun if you stop thinkin’ so much."  
"Yeah, I'm sure." You take your usual seat between the two.  
"No, really, I don't think I've ever really seen you cut loose. I've seen you relax, but not get crazy. At least not yet."  
"Nick, come on, she hasn't exactly been up for a night on the town lately."  
"All I'm saying is--"  
"A lot of stuff over the movie, now shush."  
"Alright, you two. Calm down." You play referee, trying to quiet them down. "Can we eat yet?"  
You all pile your plates high and settle in for the movie. Nicky leans over and whispers, "We're due for a girls night out as soon as your up for it." You smile conspiratorially and discreetly nod your agreement.  
As the movie plays, you fill up on Chinese food and Coke, unconsciously snuggling closer to Iain the later it got, and you were half aware that his arm ended up behind your head on the couch.  
You actually really did enjoy the movie, and as you said goodnight to Nicky and Iain, you surprise yourself by needing to suppress the sudden impulse to kiss him goodbye. As you're getting ready for bed you hear snippets of a whispered conversation carrying on in the living room,  
"Nicky would you drop it already?"  
"I'm just saying. I really like her. I don't know why you don't think it could work for you two."  
"Because it already didn't. That's not what she wanted."  
There was a long pause. "Maybe she forgot."


	13. Check Up

Check up day. You could do this. Just go in, get your clean bill of health, and go back to work on Monday. But what if they found something? What if you weren't alright? What if there was some sort of permanent damage? What if--  
"How are you? You look like you're thinking too hard." Iain breaks through your thoughts. He insisted on driving you so you wouldn't have to go alone.  
"A little worried. Just a lot to think about... If something goes wrong."   
"Nothin’ll go wrong." He reaches over and takes your hand. "You know you've been healing up and you said you're starting to feel normal again. So don't worry."  
"But what if--"  
"We'll deal with it. There is nothing your doctor will tell you that we can't handle." You stare at him, "what?"  
"You said 'we'." You could hardly keep the wonder out of your voice.   
"Of course I did. You remember taking care of me when I was sick? I don't intend to take off when you're needing help. That's not what friends do." Your eyes tear up slightly and you give his hand a squeeze.  
After the doctor has performed every conceivable test to determine your mental and physical health, you are sitting alone in the cold office, the scratchy hygiene paper crackling with every twitch and swing of your legs, the door opens suddenly, making you jump.   
"Well, miss Y/N," the doctor begins, "looks like you follow instructions well, you're healing up perfectly."  
You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding,   
"You shouldn't have any lingering side effects, but if you find yourself having persistent headaches, especially migraines, you should come back for some additional work. But honestly, I don't expect to see you back any time soon. You're good to go." He smiles reassuringly,  
"So, I'm okay to go back to work?"  
"I would take it easy for a little while, no stunts, as little strenuous activity as you can manage, and make sure you keep taking care of yourself otherwise, so plenty of rest."   
You smile, utterly relieved, and thank your doctor, but as you walk back out to the car with Iain you have decidedly mixed feelings. You've been itching to get back on set with everyone, but you are still having issues retaining your dialogue, you can quote half a paragraph, but as soon as one word slips, you are lost.   
"Hey, it'll work out just fine. You may be rusty, but it'll come. Try not to worry about it." How was he so good at reading your mind like that? He kisses the top of your head, trying to reassure you, and opens the car door for you. In the few seconds your alone in the car as he walks around to his door, Nicky's words from two nights ago stick out in your mind. You realize, and maybe you already knew, he wasn't just sticking with you as a friend.   
He still loves you.


	14. Like old Times

Your first day back on set comes before you know it, and your getting hugs and pats on the back from the cast and crew,  
"Hey, there she is!" Henry calls, "we heard you got a clean bill of health from the doc, does that mean we don't get to call you 'Turbo'?" He teases,   
"Ha...ha... Yeah, I wish you wouldn't." You hug him hello. Iain has been sticking fairly closely to you, trying to make you feel at ease, and running lines with you. You think you have it down, and before you know it, you're in the "bus" pantomiming a presentation at the holotable.  
"Action!"  
"The fix isn't the hard part..." Your mind comes to a screeching halt, "oh, sorry..." You chuckle, trying to brush it off, one slip up, no big deal.   
"Okay, ready? Action!"  
"The recalibration-- no, sorry."   
-  
"Take 12. Action!"  
"The fix it the easy part. It's a simple recalibration. The trick is-- the trick is figuring out... We have to find a way into..." You sigh. Your stomach is knotting up, and you feel like you're letting everyone down. Wasting their time.  
"It's okay. No worries." Your director says, but you can see frustration starting to build. "Let's make that lunch. We can come back to it later. You go grab some food, relax a bit. It'll come, don't worry." You nod lightly, and head to your trailer.   
You try not to look frantic as you nearly run across the lot. Your in the fresh air and for some reason you feel like you can't breathe. 'Just get to the trailer. Just make it to your trailer, hold it together. Just get to your trailer.' Your vision starts to swim before you can get to the door. You throw it open and stumble inside, gasping. You kick off your shoes. Still too hot. You shed your jacket. You still can't breathe. You throw your shirt somewhere in the corner of the room. It's still not enough. You stumble into the bathroom and collapse in the shower, finally able to breathe, and now the tears take over.   
Why did you think you could come back after something like that? You're wasting time. You shouldn't have come back. Maybe they should have just killed off your character after all. Maybe this chapter of your life should be closed. You aren't sure how long you sat crying but you hear a knock on the trailer door. 'Oh, just go away.' You think. The door opens,  
"Y/N?" You hear Iain's voice, "I brought you lunch. You are still here, right?" You sniff, a few seconds later he appears at the bathroom door holding two plates of food. The pity that grows in his eyes almost makes you sick. You must be quite a sight, huddled in the corner of the shower in your bra and jeans, hair a mess. You've cried away most of your makeup, and whatever was left was smudged across your face.  
He doesn't say anything. Neither do you. He sets the food down on the counter, sitting next to you he pulls you into a tight side-hug, and you bury your face in his chest. You have no more tears, but you still can't shake the feelings that are dragging you down.   
"You know no one is upset, right? Everyone in there understands." You bury your face deeper, trying to disappear. You could see the faces they pulled when you screwed up. Ming wincing when you scrambled your words. Chloe's near silent hiss through her teeth when you forgot your line. The way they all looked at you with pity when you just couldn't find the right word.   
"Sweetheart, whatever you're telling yourself isn't true. We are all here to help you. Your doctor said you were good to go, so I think it's just stress that's getting to you. So if we could figure out a way for you to calm down--" you're not sure how it happened, or why of all things, that's how you decided to shut him up, you just knew you needed him to stop talking, so you turn his face toward yours and kiss him. At least you had only intended to make him stop talking, when he leaned into you, the last thought in your mind was to pull away. So you don't, in fact, you lean back, sliding down onto the cramped shower floor, pulling him on top of you. You feel like you're on fire, giving no notice to the frigid tile under your back. You hear Iain gasp for breath, partly from being taken by surprise. But partly for... Other reasons. He kisses back hungrily, his hands mapping your torso. You think he's reaching back to unclasp your bra when, instead, he pulls back and sits up. He's still breathing heavily, looking at you like there was nothing he wanted more than to pounce on you right then.   
"Y/N, this isn't right." You feel like you've been slapped, "You're upset. You made it clear how you felt before, I'm not jeopardizing our friendship because you aren't thinking straight."  
"Not thinking straight?" You make no attempt to suppress your glare, "Why would you presume to know what I'm thinking?" You jump up from the bathroom floor and leave the room to find your shirt.  
"Y/N wait." He follows.  
"I heard Nicky the other night." He stops, complete confusion in his eyes, "She was talking about you and me being together and you gave her that same reason. You put it on me."  
You know it is on you but you're so frustrated, trying to find the top of your shirt, you don't care if you're making sense. "Is that the only reason?" He looks at you, defeated, "Iain, do you still love me?" He takes a breath to answer and is cut off by a knock at the door.  
"Twenty minutes, you two." You hear Elizabeth.  
"Just go, you have to get ready to be back on set." You finally wrench your shirt over your head. He hesitates, then moves toward the door. He pauses, hand resting on the latch,  
"I'll always love you, Y/N." He says before stepping out.   
You take a few breaths, calming yourself. You decided.  
You couldn't do this to him anymore.


	15. The Last Night

Iain was surprisingly civil for the remainder of the day. Successfully keeping any tension from coming across on camera. But once the day was done, he discreetly excused himself, heading back to his own apartment.   
You catch Elizabeth just before she leaves,  
"Lizzy, I need your help."  
-  
-  
-  
You needed to talk to him. Just one more conversation, that's all you need. But you knew he wouldn't meet you, at least not right now, and you needed to get this done before you convinced yourself otherwise.   
"He's on his way. Should I stay?"  
Elizabeth says after she hangs up her phone. It's the next evening, and you've commandeered Elizabeth's living room,   
"Maybe, to let him in... Ya know, so he actually comes in."  
"I don't think he's as angry as you think-"  
"I hurt him. I was upset, stressed... And horrible. I wouldn't want to see me either."  
You try to keep Lizzy talking so you don't have to think about what you're about to do. You know it won't be easy. She seems to understand and chats with you about how good it is to have you back on set, filled you in on anything you managed to miss, and tried to joke around a little bit.   
You jump when there's a knock at the door. Apparently the conversation did nothing to eradicate the butterflies. You take a breath. Here it goes.  
"Hey Lizzy, what did you need to see me about?" He asks as he comes through the door, but he stops short when he sees you.  
"Just talk to her." Elizabeth whispers close to his ear, closing the door and excusing herself to her room.  
He stands in the entryway. Apparently trying to look anywhere but at you.  
"There isn't much I have to say--"  
"I really didn't think there was anything else you could say about this."   
"Iain, please, I have to say this." You walk over to look him in the eye and you take a calming breath. "I know I've forgotten a lot of things lately, but I do remember our last conversation about us. I know I said I wanted us to stay friends, but I also know that you are a good man, and you deserve so much more than that. So I can't do this to you." He starts slightly,  
"Wait, no." He steps toward you, "don't do this." You feel your eyes well up,  
"But it's not fair to you--"  
"No, just because we hit a bump or have an argument doesn't mean this won't work." He takes your hands, eyes pleading and shining with unshed tears,  
"No, Iain. This is it."  
"No, please don't."  
You plant a kiss on his cheek, then drop to one knee.  
"Iain, will you marry me?"

To be continued...


	16. Continued

"What?" Iain asks, he's stunned, having difficulty processing this unexpected turn of events,  
"I know you probably want to be the macho man and do this yourself but--"  
He cuts you off with a kiss, falling to his knees and launching into your arms,   
"What about what you said before? About not wanting to get married." You rest your forehead against his,  
"Maybe I forgot about my fear of commitment." You tease with a wink. "Um, you still haven't answered. Do you actually want to do it yourself?"  
"Of course. I mean of course I'll marry you, I don't care who does the asking." He smiles, his eyes tearing once more, and he pulls you in for another kiss, this one slow and deep, having lost the desperation and surprise from before.  
"I love you." You whisper by his ear when you finally part, which makes him hug you to him as tightly as he can manage. You hear him sniff and his shoulders shake a little. You're about to ask if he's alright when you hear Elizabeth's door open quietly and she calls softly,   
"Y/N? Is everything alright?"   
"Yeah, you can come back now. Everything's great." You can't stop your growing smile, and you pull back and look Iain in the eyes as there is a quiet stampede of sneaking footsteps down the hall. He jumps up and turns to see all of your friends coming down the hall with hopeful smiles. You nod to them as he helps you to your feet, cuing uproarious cheering, hugs, pats on the back, and though B.J. still denies that he cried, there were some joyous tears.  
"Congrats, you two!" "We're so excited for you!" "I'm so glad you are back together!" There were produced, bottles of wine and beer, soft drinks and food for a party,  
"Wait, you all knew?" Iain asks,  
"Yeah, Lizzy was having a little trouble keeping the news to herself," Chloe answers,  
"And I needed a place you would go so I could talk to you. And then have a party after."  
"But what if I'd said no?"   
"You already told me yesterday that you would always love me. That's the only reason I thought this might work." You wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head on his shoulder.  
"Ew!" You hear Nicky come up behind you, whining like a child. You stick your tongue out at her, pulling Iain in for a melodramatically sloppy kiss. "Okay, get a room you two." You separate, chuckling, and she jumps in to hug her brother,  
"By the way, Nick, I'm going to need help with the planning, if you're interested." You say, earning a bright smile from your soon-to-be sister in-law.   
"Oh, girl, you will have plenty of help, trust me!" Ming says.  
"When are you going to tell mum, Iain?"  
"Oh, right." He checks his watch, doing the math, "Hey, if I call her now I should catch her and dad at breakfast.", you check you're watch, it’s just after 11pm and the party had been going for three hours already. Iain excuses himself to make his call in a quieter corner.  
"And you? When are ya callin' your fam?" Your smile falters,  
"No one really to tell." You pour yourself glass of wine, "Didn't you notice no one around when I got hurt?"  
"Just figured they were busy." She starts to look sheepish,  
"Even if I did tell them, they wouldn't have come."  
"Oh, come on, if they knew you had basically died, I'm sure they would have done something."  
"Nicky, I haven't talked to my family in six years. Not even around the holidays. Last time I saw my mom was my eighteenth birthday when I took off. And it wasn't a pleasant goodbye." She refuses to give up,  
"What about your dad?" She asks carefully,  
"Dead. And the world is better for it." Her eyes widen, "Haven't you ever wondered why I know how to take a hit?" She shrinks back a little bit, finally getting the picture,  
"Figured maybe you had brothers..."  
"One sister. She actually forgot to call on my eighteenth, so she didn't even get a goodbye. As soon as I walked out that door, I didn't look back. I never wanted to. It was a dark chapter that I wanted nothing more than to send through the shredder."  
"Y/N, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to press."  
"I know. But I can't exactly keep that all from you. We're going to be family, right?" She offers a half smile and throws her arm across your shoulder,  
"So I'm thinking lime green taffeta for the bridesmaids."  
"You're fired."  
You both talk and laugh, keeping the subject off family for awhile. After another hour or so, people started to head out, the group slowly dwindling.  
Promises of seeing everyone on set, and wishes for a goodnight were exchanged, and you helped Elizabeth clean up a bit before Iain took you home.   
"Iain."  
"Hm?"  
"Let's elope." He chuckles lightly,  
"No, Y/N, we're having a wedding, we're going to party, and celebrate, and dance, and enjoy ourselves."  
"And your mother would kill you, right?"  
"Oh, you would never find my body,"  
You love how this man can make you laugh. "Seriously, though, it will be alright, we can take our time with planning, it doesn't have to be huge, it'll be fine." He kisses the top of your head as you walk down the street. Being the weekend, there was still plenty of foot traffic, even though it was well after 1am.   
"How did your mom take it, by the way?"  
"Oh, she's so excited. I've told her about you, plenty, and Nicky apparently talks about you a bit, too, but she is really antsy now to meet you."  
You walk the last block your building and up to your apartment door in comfortable, exhausted silence. You can tell Iain is practically asleep on his feet when he kisses you goodnight. Before he turns away, you tug his sleeve.   
"You can stay the night, hun. You're ready to pass out, just crash here." He looks a little doubtful, and maybe a little mischievous "just sleeping, you dork." You giggle. Not like either of you had the energy for anything else anyway. You unlock the door and pull him in after you.   
Your last conscious thought that night, wrapped in Iain's arms, feeling his heartbeat and warmth on your back, 'I could definitely get used to this.'


	17. Best Laid Plans

You sigh, dropping the bridal magazine you're looking at, trading it instead, for your script. Even when you take a break, you're not really taking a break. You were getting ready for the filming of the Agents of SHIELD season finale, three weeks after which was the wedding, putting the date at December 12th.  
"Hey, take it easy Turbo. You've still got time. The only thing you're missing is the dress." Nicky offers you a beer, trying to get you to relax.  
"I'm just afraid I'm going to forget something, it's hard to keep track of it all, I mean the food, the venue, the guests, the colors, the invitations, who all has RSVP'd, the reception..." The more you list, the more you wonder if you really are forgetting something.  
"Honestly, you've had so many people helping you with this, there is really nothing to worry about. And that's probably why you think you're forgetting something. It's covered." She nudges your shoulder as she sits at the other end of the couch. "Can I ask you something? I mean, it's kind of late in coming, but I want to know. Why do you want to marry my brother?" You almost chuckle, thinking she's joking, but then you catch her look. "It's just that from what I've heard, you weren't too keen on the idea before. What changed?" You think for a second, trying to pinpoint the moment of your change of heart. You smile softly.  
"When you showed up to help me, and the three of us finished off almost every day with a movie night, I realized that my personal view on family was a little... Skewed. My family life was severely lacking when I was growing up, and my friends' situations weren't much better. I didn't know families could really be happy. The closest thing we ever got to that was when we faked it around the holidays, and that almost always ended in an argument. But seeing what kind of family he comes from, seeing how you interact, how patient he's been with me, how he treats you, seeing what a truly good man he is, I felt like there was actually a chance that we could be happy." She stays silent, looking like she's assessing your answer before nodding, her eyes brightening with a smile.  
"Just checking." She says, picking up your magazine. "Got time tomorrow for dress shopping?"  
.  
.  
.  
The whole day proved to be a headache, you'd gone to three different stores and couldn't find anything that felt right. You were operating on the assumption that when you found your dress, you would know, you would put it on and think, "this is it." were you being ridiculous? Was the decision more complex than that? So for now you were taking a much needed break, fighting a headache, sitting outside a cafe with Nicky.  
"Well, mission attempt number three. Failed. Guess we can try again online?" She offers,  
"There's no way to know either if it will fit right, or if it will get here in time." You rub your forehead and pinch your nose, trying to alleviate the pressure.  
"We still have three weeks to find you an amazing dress. And we will."  
"I have to go back to work tomorrow. And it's going to be a long week." You sigh, this week was the filming of the season finale, and the deadline for the crew was creeping up on them, so they were a little rushed.  
"I don't work, I'm at your service this week. I'll go out and scope out some dresses, see if there are any hopefuls. We won't have to deal with a day like this again."  
"Wow. You don’t have to do that, Nick. That's a lot to ask..."  
"So? I'm the only one available right now. It's no problem." You smile gratefully,  
"I also needed to ask you something." You start, "You have been unbelievably helpful in this. Made the whole process seem bearable. So, I wanted to ask you if you were interested in officially being my maid of honor." She drops the scone she was munching and looks at you wide-eyed.  
"Are you bein’ serious right now?" She asks,  
"Uh, yeah..." You're almost confused until she jumps up squealing and hugs you.  
"I'd love to!" You laugh, hugging her back, "I'm definitely going dress searching now. Oh! And the bachelorette party!"  
"Whoa, now, please don't do something crazy." You plead, afraid of what she may think up. While it may be fun, you had a distinct feeling you would regret it.  
"Oh, sure, nothing too big." She winks. Oh dear. "In the meantime, let's call it a day. You wanna run your lines?"  
Once the two of you get back to the apartment, Nicky spends the rest of the evening running lines with you, even sometimes trying to act the scene out with you. You could tell she was plotting something for the party, but three weeks later when you would look back on this evening, you never would have guessed what she was envisioning.


	18. Rude Awakening

You wake with a start to someone bursting into your room, "IfounditIfounditIfoundit! I found it! I found it! I found it!" Nicky is squealing as she tugs your arm. "We have to go, now. You're going to love it!"   
"Nicky, I was sleeping!" You whine, "What is so important that you thought it would be a good idea to wake me?" half asleep and grumpy from the rude awakening, your words come out more snippy than you really intended.  
"Oh grow up, Sleepin Beauty. I found your dress." You burrow back under your pillow, having wrenched your arm from her hands,   
"What dress?"   
"THE dress. Just come with me." Despite your exhaustion you let her haul you out of bed, but your mood stays sour for most of the car ride. You get dragged into another dress shop that looked just like all the rest, your clothes probably not exactly matching and your hair barely presentable. She makes a bee line for the back of the store, pushing you into a dressing room on the way. Less than a minute later, she's knocking on the door and you open to find her with one of the store attendants on her heels, holding a bundle of white fabric. You rub your bleary eyes, trying to get yourself to wake up a bit and pay attention, and can't hold back the gasp.   
From the lace sleeves to the length of the train, it was exactly what you didn't realize you were looking for. You take in the full skirt, stiff lace collar, and you run your fingers reverently over the beautiful appliqué detail at the waist, almost afraid to touch it.   
"Nicky..." She stops you,  
"I know, just try it on." She waits outside the dressing room while the attendant helps you change, as soon as you step out to the three-walled mirror, your eyes well with tears of excitement, relief, and realization that this was actually going to happen. You were going to marry Iain in a week and a half. And now everything was set. You turn around on the pedestal, looking to Nicky, whose eyes are also looking a bit misty, she claps lightly,  
"It's perfect Turbo."  
.  
.  
.  
"So the dress is covered!" Nicky finishes telling the story of the dress-ordeal to Colleen and Alan, Iain's parents; they flew out to help with the last of the wedding prep, showing up right as filming completed and basically planned and hosted the wedding shower themselves. Now the four of you are meeting for a celebratory lunch but also a farewell to them as they had to fly back to Scotland briefly before the wedding.   
To begin with, you were fairly nervous about meeting them face to face, but they had been nothing but accepting and supportive. Sometimes you would catch yourself wondering how a family this wonderful would want to embrace little, broken you.  
"So that's everything? It's all planned with some time to spare?" Colleen asks, surprised, "Impressive planning on your part, there, Y/N."  
"Oh, no. It was all Nicky. I'd still be looking for a photographer or caterer if she wasn't there to help." You say, deflecting the praise,  
"It's not quite done, though." Nicky chimes in, "I'm still workin' on minor aspects of the ceremony, which we could probably hash out right here." You scoot a little closer to the table, ready to brainstorm, "So you've already picked out the music for the wedding party to walk in to, the order of events, ending music and such, I just needed to check that you were walking alone down the aisle." Your future in-laws were aware of your family situation and have graciously never pressed the issue too hard, but you suppose now it's unavoidable. Just as you're about to answer her, Alan pipes up,  
"You don't have anyone to walk with you?"  
"Well, it's actually kind of fitting, don't you think? I mean, my dad was never there, so I was practically always on my own anyway. If I have any living uncles, I don't know them, I've thought about friends, but I don't want to have to choose one over any other. It just makes sense to me." Colleen and Alan share a look, and he nods slightly, "Y/N, it would be an honor to accompany you down the aisle, if you'll let me lend my arm."  
"Why would you do that? You already have a daughter you'll be walking down the aisle,"  
"And I'll be gaining another in almost two weeks."  
"You don't have to do that for me." You sit back, taking a swig of your lemonade,   
"Are you actually wanting to walk alone?" He asks, the table seems so quiet. You think about it before reluctantly shaking your head. "Would you accept my arm, then?" He asks sweetly, but you can't answer him, not around the knot in your throat. You jump up, moving around the table to hug him, before your tears spill over.  
"I think I would like that." It takes all of your self control not to cry when you finish lunch and see them off at the airport. Why does this family want you? Why are they so wonderful?  
"Next thing on the list: Bachelorette party." She whisper, making you chuckle. You'd almost forgotten.


	19. Party Time

The night started innocently enough, but you couldn't help but keep your guard up, every time there was a knock at the door you half expected it to be some cheesy male stripper.   
"Would you relax, Turbo, I didn't hire you a stripper." That actually does make you relax a bit, and before you know it, you're partying with the rest of the group.   
Old friends of yours from college showed up, some of whom you haven't seen since graduation, and of course, your family from the set, including both cast and crew. You started the night feeling like a broken record, thanking person after person for their congratulations, then as folks had started drinking and you got a few shots in you, the conversation got more interesting... And made less sense. You're all laughing like idiots about a story involving a llama, Jules Verne, and a Volkswagen when Nicky gets a phone call and she excuses herself briefly,  
"Okay, now." She slurs slightly when she comes back, her accent getting thicker, "Before we are all too far gone, and before I forget she's waiting for us. Y/N, I have a special guest for you." She hauls you up to your feet, where you both waver a little bit. Neither of you are quite drunk, but you're both buzzed enough to be unstable.  
"Nick, you said you didn't hire a stripper." You whine,  
"No," she snorts, "first of all, this is a woman, and second, I already told you I didn't. But you do have to promise me one thing, before I open that door." You look at her, raising an eyebrow, "don't hate me. You need this." You nod and shrug lightly, but your brows furrow. How could she possibly make you hate her after everything that's happened?   
She opens the door, letting in the mystery visitor.   
Oh. That's how.  
You feel the blood drain from your face and your buzz is instantly killed when you find yourself standing face-to-face with your sister.  
.  
.  
.  
No one talks for awhile, so Nicky introduces her,   
"Ladies, this is Angela. Y/N's sister." There follows a slightly awkward, or rather incredibly awkward, silence when no one quite knows how to respond. They all know bits of your family horror story, as you put it, so a few of them watch you to see how you'll react. Before you have a chance,  
"It's nice to meet you Angela. I'm Elizabeth." Lizzy jumps up, offering her hand, Angie takes it gratefully, but looks at you worriedly, as if she's not sure you are going to allow her to meet your friends. As though you won't allow her back into your world.  
Elizabeth introduces the rest of the gang and they try to make small talk, offering her a drink as you grab Nicky by the arm and pull her, none too gently, into the hallway  
"Nick, what is this?" You hiss,  
"I did tell you not to hate me, ya know." He responds, she sets her hands on your shoulders, trying to keep you from freaking out too extensively. You don't quite know how you should react. You want to scream. You want to kick this woman you haven't seen in how many years out to the curb. You want to get away from her. And Nicky. And the group.   
"Listen, Turbo. You're gettin' married. You have minimal family in this world. I know you keep tellin' us your home was more than broken, but this is the kind of time where you start repairin' things like that. You will want your family there-"  
"I don't want my family at all." You try to push her hands off your shoulders, but she doesn't let you go.  
"This is one of the biggest days of your life. Friends aren't quite enough, right now. I'm sure you've got some choice things to say to her, and when I talked to her about comin' tonight she was real nervous about it. She knows things aren't just goin' to be alright. I think you should talk to her. She's got stuff to say too." Nicky takes a step back, releasing your shoulders. All you want to do is cry. You had done so well avoiding your so-called family for so long, now it's looking like there's no more running.   
Nicky gives you one last look, telling you to take your chance while you can before she goes back to the living area, where the ladies had all started chatting, getting to know your sister. You just stand in the hall, feeling like an outcast at your own party. Memories of that wretched family life dig themselves out of their graves in the back of your mind and start replaying again in your head. You can't stop them this time, and you can't go back out there with her, so you lock yourself in your bathroom, curling up in the corner of the shower.  
You didn't know why, but this was always your go-to haven. Whenever you had a nightmare or did poorly in school, had an argument with a friend or got bullied. Or when you heard your parents fighting yet again. This is the spot that always made you feel safe.  
There is a soft knock at the door.  
"Gimme a minute."  
"Y/N?" It's Angie's voice. How can you possibly still recognize that? She's whispering gently, timidly.   
"Just... Just gimme a minute." You sigh, you will your breathing to regulate as you feel a panic attack come on. There was a reason you buried all those memories, it was just too much to handle. The effort of breathing normally shifts your concentration just enough that you can't hold the tears any longer, you don't sob, you don't whimper, the tears just flow down your face, unbidden and almost unnoticed.  
"Y/N, can we please talk?" Angie asks softly. You stand with effort, your joints already somewhat stiff from the cold tile. Your hand pauses on the doorknob as you take a breath. Your guard goes up as you open the door and look at your sister. No more running.


	20. The Dam Bursts

"What?" You ask from behind the door. You know this isn't a conversation to have in the hallway, but you just don't want to let her in.  
"Please. I don't want us to cut each other out anymore. I do want us to be a family again." You feel a tug in your heart that you automatically want to shrink back from, you step back, saying nothing, it looks like you're about to close the door but you return to your seat in the shower, leaving the door ajar. You see her hesitate slightly in the doorway before joining you in the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

It seems like ages before either of you talk. You don't even look at her. She sighs a few times before she begins.  
"You probably think I don't know what was said on your 18th birthday. I do. And I just wanted to say..." She trails off, taking a shaky breath, "I'm sorry I failed you." She looks like she's trying to suppress the flood of tears that overtakes her and your heart breaks a little bit.   
"Why wait so long to say it?" No running, but no mercy. You still felt deeply wronged by the only family you had left.   
"It took me a while to understand, and by that point I figured you didn't want either of us to come after you." True as it is, you still find yourself rolling your eyes,   
"How could you not see it? It wasn't like I was a sporty kid. Bruises weren't the norm for my chosen activities. At least not until he made me take field hockey. How could you just let something like that slide? What if he had completely lost control one night and actually killed me?" Your volume escalates with each accusation, and your voice wavers remembering the terror of your childhood. The nights you heard him stumble through the door, drunk, looking for a fight. Days you had to go to school with bruises lining your arms and stomach. The excuses that became a knee-jerk response to the constant inquiries: how you had hurt yourself, why you were wearing long sleeves on such a warm day. The lack of trust you had for everyone around you because they saw, and they let it go on.  
"Y/N, you weren't the first. When mom and dad first got married, things were good." you cringe at his title, you refused to call him that a long time ago. Now you were confused, though, not the first? "She told me he changed when money got tight. His stress led to drinking, uncovered his temper. She looked away when he turned on me, too." You look up at this revelation, you didn't remember ever seeing any signs of abuse on her, "At least it felt like she did. The first time he hit me, I was ten. I had left my homework at home and came back at the end of the school day with a note from Mrs. Handler saying I could get an extension and bring it the next day if mom and dad sign my note. I couldn't stand up straight or sit back in my seat the next day."   
You find you're crying, "I remember that." You say. You were six. Young enough that you still believed your dad when he said that Angie had broken the rules and he was just disciplining her like daddies do, and you didn't know any better. All you heard from your room, where you'd been locked in, was yelling, and it scared you too much to investigate. "I had no idea." You whisper. Your sister looks different now, more broken than scared, like she actually understood and really regretted everything that happened.   
"I know. You were little. We weren't. I know you were thinking we should have done something, but believe me, we tried. Every time either of us tried to step in, he threatened to kill us. Mom even tried to divorce him at one point, but she couldn't afford the lawyer, and she was too scared to go to the cops. If she had reached out to anyone and they didn't believe her, it would have gotten back to him. The night of his accident, she cried herself to sleep with relief." You were fifteen by then, having endured six years of being a human punching bag, and irrevocably planning to sever ties with your useless mother and sister as soon as your were able. "I wish you would believe me.” Her voice trembled, “We tried. Maybe we could have tried harder."   
It took everything in you not to sob, your heart aching like it hasn't in years. You had forgotten how you missed having a family. Your face was soaked with tears, you couldn't stop them if you tried. But there is something else you can do, "I know we aren't invited to the wedding, but I wanted to make sure you knew that we both wish you the best of luck. Better than either of us ever had. And if he is anything like his twin out there I don't think you'll need it." She offers a pitiful smile, closing the subject, getting ready to walk away again. As she stands from her place on the floor across from you, you jump up, throwing your arms around her, suddenly sobbing,  
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You repeat, feeling her arms close around you and her shoulders start to shake,   
"I wish we could have done something. I wish I could have helped you. I just didn't know how, I was so scared." She says, her face buried in your shoulder.   
"I thought I was so alone. I'm so sorry!" You stand hugging each other until you both calm down a bit.   
It takes awhile.  
When you pull away, you feel like something in you is new. Like some of that bitterness had been surgically removed. "Please come to the wedding on Saturday." You say before you even think about it. "I can't guarantee you'll be able to eat. But please come." She chuckles, sniffling, and nods.  
The two of you look quite the sight when you come back to the living area, the girls quiet down, Nicky looks hopeful, Chloe and a few others look a bit wary,   
"We were about to play cards against humanity. Care to join, you two?" Ming chimes in, you tug your sister to the couch with you throwing a red-eyed wink at Nicky across the table. This family had to be the best thing that has ever happened to you.  
.  
.  
.  
The next day, you and Iain meet up briefly before the rehearsal dinner, he looks a little confused when you show up with company, especially a woman he's never met.  
"Mornin', love." He kisses your forehead, and turns his attention to your guest.   
"Iain, hun, meet my sister. Angie." His hand freezes momentarily as he reaches for a handshake, but he quickly recovers, pulling Angie in for a hug.   
"It's a pleasure to meet you." He says softly. How could you both possibly be crying again?


	21. Just a Short Walk

Just breathe. Just breathe. Just breathe. You can do this. Just a little walk, say yes when they ask, then you're done. It's okay.   
Your stomach hadn't calmed down since you woke up this morning. Three hours earlier than you had meant. This was it. Today you marry the best man you've ever met and gain a family better than any you could have dreamed.   
"Agh, you're gorgeous. The dress is absolutely perfect." Nicky says, stepping back to survey her handiwork. Chloe and Lizzy are also present, one taking pictures, the other helping with your hair. You are about to have Nicky help fit your veil when you see someone behind you in the mirror,  
"Angie!" She's smiling proudly, "You made it!" You reach out and hug her.   
"Wow, Y/N, this dress is amazing." You blush lightly, well aware of how well the dress hugs you, with all flattering lines and accents, not to mention you feel fantastic in it.  
"Hey, Angie, would you like to..." Nicky asks gesturing for Angie to take the veil. She looks like she's just remembered something,   
"Actually, there is someone here who may be better suited for that," she steps out momentarily, coming back tugging on a woman's hand. "If it's alright with you, Y/N." She finishes, your mother stares at you, her hand going to her heart and mouth agape, like she just can't find the words to tell you how proud she is.   
"Mom?" You ask in disbelief. "You're here."   
"Of course I am, sweetheart. As soon as Angie told me you wanted us here I dropped everything. I wouldn't have missed this for the world." She was wearing her nicest skirt and a somewhat new blouse, obviously she hadn't had time to go buy something new and from the looks of it, she likely wouldn't have had the money, but you could tell she had done her best.  
You just put on your make up. You don't have time to fix it. Calm down.  
She reaches out to you, unsure you'll accept a hug, and you debate momentarily until Nicky snaps you out of it, pushing you forward. You let yourself fall into your mother's hug, sighing. Some things still hurt. You weren't sure how long it would take for them to heal, if ever, but for the first time in your life you felt like your family could actually be a family again. You don't cry. You don't speak. You're so happy, all you can do is smile.  
"So then, turbo. Last touch." Nicky passes the veil to your mother,  
"Turbo?" Angie asks, obviously amused at the nickname, you chuckle a little nervously,   
"A long story... Maybe later." And there actually will be a later, your mother silently asks your permission to fit your veil, still being cautious, not wanting to overstep any unspoken bounds. You turn, crouching a little so she could reach properly, she clips the lacy veil in place and lets her hands fall to your shoulders, looking at you in the mirror,  
"You're so beautiful. I can't wait to meet him." She gets choked up and is about to excuse herself when the wedding coordinator shows up to let you know to take your places for the ceremony, then she leads your mother and sister to their seats at the front of the sanctuary.  
"Alright. Showtime, ladies." Chloe says as she, Elizabeth, and Nicky grab their bouquets and help you out to the foyer. You must have looked like a deer in the headlights because Alan pats your arm. You look up at him,  
"Don't over think it. Just a short walk and you'll be standin' with him. From there it's easy peasy..."  
"Lemon squeezy." You smile and take a calming breath. Your nerves dissolve into excitement as the doors open, you hear the music start, Chloe and Brendan, Iain's best friend, walk down the aisle. Elizabeth and Colin, another of Iain's old friends, follow closely, then Nicky and Brett. It's your turn. Your processional music starts.   
A Thousand Years.   
"Time to take a step, love." Alan says, urging you forward. You will your feet to work, leaning on Alan to keep from tripping, or fainting, which seems more likely at the moment.   
You're walking, the only thing you hear is your pulse, pounding in your ears. The faces around you are a blur, the arm you're clinging to suddenly feeling insubstantial. This feels like a dream. Are you dreaming? Have you not woken up yet? You hold Alan's arm tighter, or at least you think you do. Your fingers have gone numb and you almost drop your bouquet.   
Then you see it. You see him.   
Even after several years of dating, breaking up, laughing, arguing, pranking each other, and breaking his heart, he still looks at you like that, like the day you wore that dress.   
THE dress.   
He still looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, like you're the only woman in the world. Like he can't even express how much he loves you.  
Your feet are on solid ground again. Your head is clear. Your heart is full.  
You say 'I do'.   
The kiss takes the air out of you, leaving you lightheaded and smiling like a loon.  
You hear applause and cheering, another song plays, but you don't hear it.   
You grasp his hand and run, down the aisle, through the foyer, down the steps. Giggling all the way. You did it.  
You're married. To Iain. To your best friend.


	22. One Year Later

The next year flies by. You enjoyed a wonderful honeymoon in Venice, after which you and Iain moved in to your own place in Scotland, though you kept your small L.A. apartment for use during filming. And you're still keeping in touch with your family in Michigan, though you're generally too busy to visit.   
The show is still going strong, and you and Chloe have been working on the choreography for your first big stunt since your accident a year and a half ago. So far you had used your stunt-double extensively, but this was just a fight scene, no flying through the air, no wire-work at all. Just punches and kicks and tossing each other over your shoulders. You could handle this.  
You hear your alarm, shrilly breaking through your rest. You groan, slapping the snooze button and rolling over, snuggling closer to your husband. Even after a year, you smile a goofy smile at the thought of being his wife.   
"Come on, love, we have to get up." He whispers into your hair, kissing the top of your head,  
You grunt,  
"No, we have to get up now or we'll be late for call." As he sits up, he pulls you with him, but you droop forward, trying to burrow back into the covers. He laughs and pulls you out of bed with him,   
"5 am is ungodly." You whine, he helps you get dressed in your tired state, but as he pulls your night shirt over your head, he lets his hands linger on your shoulders, your sides, they play across your torso, and he plants a soft kiss on the side of your neck, "You are actually trying to help me get ready to go, right?" You giggle,  
"You're awake, aren't you?" He whispers, wrapping his arms around you from behind,   
"Maybe too much so. And you seem rather awake, yourself." You lean into him. Feeling how 'awake' he really is. His hands slides down your stomach to the waistband of your pajamas and you're seriously considering calling in sick when your phone pings, his following closely, and you each find a text saying your call time has been moved back to 8 am due to a set and prop issue and to enjoy the extra sleep.  
You look sideways at Iain, but he's already back by your side, kissing you hungrily, laying you back on the bed, letting his hands roam even farther.  
Extra sleep. Sure.   
.  
.  
.  
When the two of you do finally make it to set, you're definitely not more rested, but at least you aren't late. It doesn’t take long for everyone to get going with the scenes, and your memory has improved so much over the last year that you're actually feeling better than new. But now comes the fight scene. You're more than a little nervous, regardless of how well you know the moves or how many times you rehearsed the scene. All it takes is one misstep.  
Take one. Chloe slips and lands on her hip. She laughs.  
Take two. Perfect, but they need another angle,  
Take three. You and Chloe get twisted up and have to restart. You start to loosen up, feeling alright with how secure you feel.  
Take eight. You're tired, Chloe's tired. It's lunchtime, so everyone is ready to take a break. You catch every step, dodge when you're supposed to, punch and miss when you're supposed to, Chloe grabs your arm, you’re rolling over her back and hitting the floor, just like every other time. Except now there is a blinding pain shooting through your arm. You're not sure if you scream, but before you know it, several people are by your side.  
"My arm! My arm! I can't move it!" You repeat, trying to breathe through the pain. You see stars and you can't think straight. An EMT steps in to check what happened,  
"It's dislocated." He reports, calmly, "You're probably going to want to hold on to something, this is going to hurt, but you'll feel better when it's done, okay?" You think you nod your assent, Iain takes your hand and bracing himself for your death grip. He strokes your hair out of your face, the gesture surprisingly soothing. Then pain.   
Starbursts of light explode behind your clenched eyelids as the EMT guides your arm back into its socket. You squeeze Iain's hand, trying to stay still, clenching your teeth, determined not to scream. Then it's over.   
The medic folds your arm across your chest, giving you a temporary sling and helps you up, slowly, so they could take you to get an x-ray and quick check up, just to ensure nothing else had been injured.  
"Hey, at least I'm conscious this time." You toss over your shoulder, so to speak, causing some chuckles from the folks staying behind.  
"No more stunts for you, young lady." Clark jokes as you walk past him, you're leaning on Iain the pain still intense enough that you don't trust your legs to work properly, he keeps his arm wrapped around your waist helping you to the car. You really have to figure out how to be more careful.   
After the drive to the hospital, the wait, and filling out forms, you have a headache and the pain in your shoulder, though dull, is becoming increasingly more prevalent.   
"Good afternoon, Mrs. de Caestecker," your doctor steps into the waiting room to greet you. You stand to shake her hand but you waver just a bit as the blood rushes to your head, the doctor reaches for your good elbow to help steady you. She watches you for a moment, looking slightly concerned, "let's take you back and check out that shoulder." Iain is asked to wait as you are taken to an exam room, you smile at him, letting him know you're alright, and he reluctantly sits.   
Iain waits for what seems like hours to him, not knowing what's going on, or how badly you're hurt. He takes a breath to calm himself. Of course you're fine. It's essentially a check up, nothing was broken, you didn't have a concussion, there was no seizure involved this time, but he kept having flash backs to the last time around. He shakes the thoughts from his head. Of course you're fine.  
"Mr. de Caestecker?" A nurse calls as she walks in,  
"Yeah." He says standing up, she gestures for him follow her.  
You don't look at him when he enters the exam room, your arm is in a new, sturdier, sling and you're leaning your weight on your good arm, you're head hangs forward.   
His heart skips a beat at the grim scene.  
"I'm sorry for the wait Mr. de Caestecker, but I had to run a few extra tests." He looks at the doctor, blood draining from his face, what could possibly have happened now?  
"When standing made her dizzy, I got curious about something. While dizziness can be caused by many harmless factors, one of which could be shock wearing off after an injury, I didn't want to take the risk and assume there wasn't another cause. As far as I can tell, the bones in her shoulder are completely sound, all the pain she has described in her arm is perfectly normal--"  
"Wait, as far as you can tell? You didn't x-ray her shoulder?" He asks, somewhat angrily,  
"No, we couldn't..." The doctor trails off, looking at you. You glance up at her, nod, and stare back down at your shoes. She looks unsure for a moment, before passing Iain a small slip of paper. He stares at it, confused, trying to make sense of it.  
"What am I looking at?" He asks, afraid it's a tumor of some sort,  
"A sonogram." You say, looking at him for the first time since he walked in, you can't contain your smile anymore and it slowly grows until you can't smile any bigger. You hold your breath.  
He's still confused.  
"You, my darling, are going to be a daddy." You whisper.  
He doesn't react for the longest time, you start to wonder if maybe he isn't as excited as you thought he would be.   
"You're... We're..." You nod, slowly.  
Finally he yelps out a laugh and scoops you up, forgetting your shoulder,  
"Iain! Iain! Arm!" He jumps back quickly, apologizing, he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, he puts his hand in your lower belly, as though he would already be able to feel something. He can't stop smiling and you could swear he's about to pass out from his excitement. The doctor and nurse just watch, amused. Ah, the enthusiasm of a new father.  
The entire ride home he wants to talk about baby names, but you just can't do it, you're too busy just enjoying the experience. You don't think you've ever seen him so happy, even on your wedding day, though this is pretty close. You just sit and watch him from the passenger seat,  
"What about Adelaide?" You shrug your good shoulder. Not too bad. "Shannon?" You wrinkle your nose, he laughs, "Okay... Leona?"   
"Oh, I like that one. But you do know it may be a boy, right?" His smile gets even bigger,  
"Brendan?" You smile, smoothing his hair back, he leans into your hand,  
"I love you, Iain." He takes your hand, kissing the back, and looks you in the eyes,  
"I love you too."


	23. Epilogue

"Addy, come on now, you know you won't get to come with us if you don't cooperate." You chase after your daughter trying to get her to calm down and get ready to go,  
"Come out from under the bed Brendan. If you and your sister listen to us you can be backstage durin' the interviews. We might even let you come out to say hi to everyone. But you have to come out and get dressed first." Iain was trying to coax your son into getting ready to leave for your first big comic con panel. There had been a SHIELD panel before, but you hadn't been invited to the SDCC panel until this year. So far it was looking like Angie and Nicky were going to have to babysit the twin terrors.   
Yes. Twins. The news had come as a shock to both of you, but the rest of the family loved the news, Iain's mother actually couldn't hold in her laughter when she found out her son would have to wrangle twins, just like she had. But they all offered as much help as they were able, most of which came from your in-laws, considering distance. Poor Iain had to put up with the worst version of you the either of you had ever seen. Typical pregnancy mood swings coupled with illogical cravings, half of which involved junky foods you couldn't get in Scotland. But even through all of it, the sudden snippy comments, losing sleep for midnight cravings, shouldering the errands you used to cover while continuing to work, he would still pull you backwards into a hug, as you stare out the window at the drizzly Scottish landscape, and remind you how much he loves you. How much he's looking forward to the beginning of this family. You could always hear a heart-melting pride in his voice that made you sure he meant it.  
When the SHIELD family got the news about the twins, Chloe and Elizabeth were ecstatic that they could both be godmothers, now. There was a minor, near-civil-war when they heard you were pregnant, but this seemed to calm it down for good.   
Each member had pitched in with watching the kiddos as they grew up behind the scenes on set, it allowed you to work without them being even close to neglected. And they were unbelievably well behaved, perfectly content to play with Legos or sit in a corner, coloring until you came to collect them.   
Now the kids are three years old and you're trying so hard to get them to cooperate just so you can get to the panel on time, but they are quick, sneaky, and small enough to fit into places where you can't go in and grab them, under the bed, for instance, was Brendan's favorite spot. Adelaide preferred hiding in the shower. She takes after you a little more than you'd like. But at least it was easy to get to.  
"Gotcha!" You scoop up your daughter who immediately starts fussing. "Do you want to see aunt Lizzy? And aunt Chloe?"  
"Yes." She whines  
"Are you going to listen?"  
"No." Still whining and trying to squirm out of your arms,  
"Addy, what's wrong, why don't you want to listen?" You're trying to reason with a cranky three-year-old. You must be sleep deprived.  
"Nooooo." She stops squirming and starts crying. You look at your watch. 2pm. Nap time. No wonder. Instead of reasoning with her you pull her close and start humming "A Tisket, a Tasket" While rocking her back and forth, bouncing a little as you pace the hotel room. She fights you for a little while longer before she just can't anymore, and rubs her eyes and almost grudgingly snuggles into you, falling asleep.   
"Why was I so careless, with that basket of mine, that itty bitty basket was a joy of mine..." You sing as you twirl slightly, suddenly catching sight of Iain, holding Brendan, who is finally dressed, though he insists on keeping his iron man helmet on. Iain is giving you that look again, trying to hide his smile, though you can't tell if he's laughing at you or with you this time. Whenever Iain holds Brendan, you're struck but just how much he looks like his daddy. Crazy curly hair, same face-shape, but your eyes. Addy got your nose, hair, and smile. But all the rest of her looks were from Iain. They were both so beautiful.  
"We can say hi to the people. Mama." Brendan says, pulling you from your thoughts, "Papa said yes." You look at Iain with a raised eyebrow, you can't exactly say no now, can you? Iain at least has the grace to blush about the executive decision, he shrugs,   
"Maybe it'll scare them enough they won't want to be out there next time?" You just shake your head.  
After getting Addy ready as best you could with her sleeping, you tote the little ones to the convention. Using a back door, you manage to get to the green room without Addy waking from the noise, then you leave the twins with your sisters and head out to the panel. But not before promising Brendan that you'll come back for him when it's time for them to say hello.   
.  
.  
.  
This was one of the best panels you'd been on. Fans were getting very creative and cerebral with their questions, really making their limited time count.   
A young girl, about 16, dressed as Raina steps up to the mic, "Okay, I have a question for Y/N, although I'm not sure you can answer it. Now, there have been whispers online about you leaving the show to take care of your family, which has sparked speculation that your character will be killed off. Since I know you probably can't say if that last part is true or not, I want to ask you instead, what you would think if that was what was coming up in the next season?" Some gasps and groans roll through the audience as you think through your answer.   
You think about what the project has meant to you, the friends you've made that have acted as your family. You met your husband on set, he brought you into his wonderful family and showed you what love and acceptance was. You think of your two little ones backstage, your mending family ties. None of this would have happened without the experiences and people that you've met during the course of this project.  
"This role has completely changed my life. Slowly, but totally. I mean, I have a true family; when I started this, I was essentially alone, and I thought I liked that. I am immensely proud of the work I've gotten to do with this cast and crew, and I will always look back on it fondly." You pause, hearing gasps, a few whispered 'oh, no's, it was true, wasn't it? Your were leaving?   
"But." You cut in, "I'm not planning on leaving anytime soon." You wink, Iain takes your hand under the table, you chuckle at the collective sigh of relief.   
"Speaking of your kiddos." The next person says, "is there any possible way we could get you to at least show us a picture?" the cheers are deafening, and you and Iain share a look. Looks like it's time. You text Nicky and Angie to go ahead and bring them out. Meanwhile, you are trying to convince the audience to stay quiet so the noise won't scare them. They seem to be complying, and when the twins are led out to the stage, there are only a few quick yelps from folks who could hardly contain themselves.   
Addy and Brendan are walked over to you, Iain takes Addy, lifting her up onto the table, where she sees the huge crowd,  
"Wave hello Addy, they wanted to say hi to you." She waves shyly, then reaches for her daddy. The crowd 'aw's, but stays relatively quiet,  
"Okay, Brendan, you wanted to say hi, there you go." You put him on the table as well, showing him the mic so he could talk to the crowd,  
He leans close to it and nearly yells,  
"I am Ironman!" And at that, the crowd roars again, laughing and cheering. Oh, Brendan, the born performer. Addy is ready to go back to her aunts and color some more; she has cuddled up to Iain, plugging her ears against the startling sounds while her brother was yelling along with the crowd. You pass them both off to your sisters and go back to the panel.   
On the car ride home after the convention, the kids were asleep in their cars seats and you were riding along, holding Iain's hand, the radio playing softly in the background. You see how far you've come in the past few years and you feel excitement bubbling up, thinking about where you're headed. Not just to your house. But home. Your own home. With your own family.


End file.
